VaLkA

mare / six / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

There was nothing familiar about the dark stallion, but the skjaldmær studied the hate-harshened lines of his face, and she knew him. Everything that she saw from the tight twist of his mouth to the barbed lance of his glare was a reflection of what she had felt under Rougaru’s yoke— and evidence of her failure. Valka had intended to make the chocolate stallion suffer for his crimes, but the alacrity with which he’d sent his offering spoke of a decision made more easily than she could imagine. Had he picked the heir that was least valuable to him in the same cold, calculating manner with which he’d once traded the promise of his daughter for her? If he had, there could be wisdom in trying to turn the son he’d sent against him— but even the thought of employing such tactics tasted sour on the Yakut’s tongue. Deception and cunning were the Wolf-King’s weapons of choice; determination and honesty her own. She would not turn blood upon blood.

But perhaps she could teach this child of her enemy that there was another path than the one he’d been born to.

Nodding in silent affirmation of the colt’s words, the shaggy mare flicked her dark gaze in the direction of a smaller bluff to the south of the Bay’s herd. With a tip of her muzzle, she indicated the direction that she would lead her new charge in, her words an emphasis to the silent language of her body. “This way,” the skjaldmær spoke, taking no effort to disguise the command beneath a veil of courtesy. For all that she hesitated to impose her will on another creature, there were times it became unavoidable— and this was one of them. But she did at least let the young stallion determine the pace with which they moved, and the freedom to choose his own course there. And if he proved worthy of her trust, there were other freedoms she hoped to give him in time. For now, however, she kept to the seal brown’s side, though there was enough space in the careful distance between their bodies to hold another of their kind.

With the wind whipping about in violent gusts, their short journey was silent. But once they were tucked behind the bluff’s sheltering wall of earth, the stocky mare squared off against her captive’s sullen hostility— and offered an unexpected reprieve in the form of understanding. “It is stupid,” she began, dark eyes drifting over the boy’s face before they turned to the sea. “All of this, I mean. My challenge against Rougaru. His efforts to chain me. The endless cycle of violence. We risk our lives for things we can never hope to hold.” Exhaling her breath in a snort, Valka was tempted to glance back at the dark creature. But she held the impulse in check— wanting him to focus on the words that she spoke, and not the one who spoke them.

Wanting to avoid the contempt she would see in his expression, and the knowledge that she had earned it rightfully.

“I will not try to hold you,” The chestnut said abruptly, regretting the confession as soon as it escaped. Because if he knew that he could simply leave— could turn around and re-enter the sea without consequence— what was there to keep the stallion here? And yet, if he didn’t trust her— if there wasn’t even room for such trust to grow— what purpose could there be in holding him? In the end , such efforts would change nothing. “I only meant to teach your father that what a ruler sows, they will also reap. I had hoped to teach his child the same. But if I force that lesson on you, I only reinforce that there is no other way.” Valka yielded to temptation at least, glancing over the red-furred curve of her rump at the boy whose life she’d upended in her quest for vengeance.

“Everything you see here was built with determination. Everyone you see is here by choice. I offer you that same choice now— and my promise to protect and guide you, no matter what you decide.”